


one little kiss (never killed nobody)

by amosanguis



Series: Tragic OTP Prompts [14]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different Teams, Angst, Chicago Cubs, Coming Out, Drama, M/M, no happy ending, title from a country song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 12:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10412223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amosanguis/pseuds/amosanguis
Summary: Anthony and Kris have been haphazardly hooking up for nearly as long as Kris has been a Cardinal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> \-- **Tragic OTP Prompt** : Your OTP is on opposite sides of a civil war.  
> \--Title from the song of the same name by Jake Owen.

-z-

 

And then nothing.

 

-x-

 

Anthony knows he’s standing too close, knows that he’s about to give himself away – but Kris’s eyes are so blue, his laugh so endearing that he just sucks Anthony right in.  He knows he’s supposed to be playing this cool and standoffish – it wasn’t supposed to be for nothing that he challenged an entire team to a good rumble after all.

The problem is just that he and Kris have been haphazardly hooking up for nearly as long as Kris has been a Cardinal.

They had run into each other after a game, both just this side of tipsy, and had traded a few barbs that had quickly developed into thinly veiled compliments that had then become them sticking their tongues down each other’s throats, their hands down each other’s pants – gasping in an alley under a burnt-out streetlight.

 

-

 

Their first morning after had consisted of Anthony angrily making eggs and Kris stubbornly refusing to eat them.

“Just eat the fucking eggs,” Anthony had snapped as he shoveled eggs onto a plate already loaded with toast and bacon.

“I hate eggs,” Kris had lied, automatically catching the fork Anthony tossed to him.

Anthony had snorted and turned his back – inadvertently showing the long scratches Kris had carved into Anthony’s skin.

Kris ate the eggs.

 

-

 

After that, it hadn’t been a one-off.  No matter who won the games – Kris would find himself sneaking around Chicago until Anthony found him and took him home or vice versa.

During the day, though, the games became a vicious Anything-You-Can-Do-I-Can-Do-Better free-for-all.  After every hit, they’d find themselves looking at each other – daring each other to challenge them right there on the diamond.

One game, when Anthony’s stolen second and then third and has started to creep towards home – Kris finds himself leaning in and saying, “Eat some pineapple before tonight.” 

And then Anthony’s whipping around and he absolutely misses his chance to run for home because all he’s thinking about is Kris’s mouth on his dick.  (Coach glares and Grandpa Ross gives him this knowing look – as if he heard everything that Kris said, which is impossible no matter what Addi believes.)

In a later game, Anthony tags Kris out by hitting him high on the thigh and holding him there, saying, “I got that pineapple.”  And Kris looks so flushed – more embarrassed than Anthony’s ever seen him even counting that first time ( _his_ first time) he was on his knees between Anthony’s legs – and Anthony’s suddenly never been so ready for a game to be over.

 

-

 

Everything is fine until it isn’t.

Until someone tweets a photo of them outside of their usual motel room with the caption “da fuq?!”

And then everything goes to shit.

 

-

 

Kris decides to deny it. 

Anthony decides to laugh and shrug it off, says, “If I had lower standards, maybe?  I mean, he _is_ a Cardinal, and that’s a shame, it is.”

No one believes either of them – especially as more blurry camera photos come in and as more and more people notice how they’re always looking at each other across the field.  One reporter even says, “Just imagine if they were on the same team.  Just.  Imagine.”

So, in the middle of the night, drunk off his anger and expensive scotch, Anthony texts Kris, _We’re done_.

Kris responds with, _Fine by me_.

In the morning, Anthony starts out a text that says, _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it_.  But he never sends it.

 

-

 

It’s not long before ESPN comes in and asks if they’re willing to do rivalry commercial.  Something about the dangers of pranks in the Sports Center offices.

Anthony agrees, says he’ll do it if Kris does.

As soon as they see each other onset, Anthony feels a weird sense of relief – Kris isn’t glaring, isn’t ignoring him.  Instead, he’s standing right in Anthony’s space just like he always does when they’re alone and he’s laughing at all of Anthony’s stupid jokes, the ones Anthony knows for a fact are not even remotely funny.

The commercial takes a whole day to film because Kris and Anthony make it up as they go, mostly ignoring the script – and the director takes it all in stride.  She tells them to just keep going; that it’s better to have to too much material than not enough.  Then she’s on the phone and talking excitedly about having an entire Prank Wars series instead of just the one commercial.

After filming, they meet at their hotel and waste no time getting each other’s clothes off.  And it’s right when Anthony’s pushing in for the first time since their last time, that there’s a knock on the door.  “Hey, Anthony,” comes a male voice.  “This is Al Yellon – can I get a second of your time?”

Panic flashes through the both of them before Kris suddenly says, “Fuck it,” and then he’s hooking his legs together behind Anthony and pulling him in, shoving himself the rest of the way down onto Anthony’s dick.  The surprise of it making Anthony curse as he falls forward – his forehead against Kris’s.

They share a look and then a grin.  “Fuck it,” Anthony echoes.  Then he’s bracing himself against the headboard.

 

-

 

It’s the best sex of their lives before reality comes crashing down around them.

 

-

 

Some of the fans turn on him, saying that they didn’t care that Anthony was gay – but did he really have to be fucking a _Cardinal_?  _Really_?

Finally the organizations sit them both down and tell them that they can either release a joint-statement or do a presser together to get it over with.  Either way, they’ll have to give special interviews to their respective team’s reporters.

“What if we didn’t?” Anthony asks Kris once the suits have left them alone in the small conference room to discuss their options.  “What if we didn’t give any interviews?”

“You going to break up with me again?” Kris asks, his face going blank.

“No,” Anthony snaps, standing up and leaning over Kris, bracing himself on the arm rests.  “I’m saying it’s none of their business and we barely know what we’re doing on the best of days – why invite the media in to analyze everything more than just our game?”

“Yeah,” Kris says, his eyes going cold.  “Why bother?”

“That’s not what I—”

“I have to go,” Kris interrupts, standing and pushing past Anthony.

 

-

 

“We’re not together anymore,” Anthony says to the crowd of reporters whose faces he can barely see beyond the bright lights of their cameras. 

“So how serious was your relationship with Kris Bryant?” someone calls out.

He’s feeling petty and angry and it’s the only reason he says what he says next.  “We were never serious,” he says.  “We just hooked up sometimes.”  The words taste bitter on his tongue, they feel like acid in his throat – but he keeps all of that off his face as he smiles and shrugs at the cameras.

 

-

 

But as soon as he’s back in the clubhouse, Ross has him pinned down.  “What the fuck was that?” he snaps.

Anthony glares, “The fuck was what?”

“Bullshit the two of you were only a fling,” Ross presses, shoving Anthony away.

“What’s it to you?” Anthony demands – the room around them is ~~deadly~~ silent, all eyes on them and Anthony is so close to rounding on everyone.  He’s been aching for a good fight for a long time now and he’ll take it from his teammates if they want it.

“I want you to be happy,” Ross shouts – the words catch Anthony off-guard.  Ross just keeps going.  “I want you to be _honest_ with yourself, with _us_.  We’re here for you, kid, but we can only help you out so much.”

Anthony steps back as if he’d been punched.

So he tells them the truth.  The truth seemingly being _pulled_ from him.

“We really did start off as a fling,” he says, looking only at Ross, trying to ignore the rest of the eyes on him.  “Then the pictures came out, we broke up, we did the commercials, we got back together – this time we were serious.  And then, I don’t know,” Anthony looks at the ground at Ross’s feet, shaking his head.  “We came out and then he left.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what I did.”

 

-

 

And then nothing.

 

-

 

They don’t talk again.

The press eventually moves on from the storyline when Jarrod Saltalamacchia comes out with some ex-teammate from the Tigers – Anthony sends an obligatory “congratulations” tweet.

He focuses instead on his team, on getting him and them to the playoffs.  And when they play the Cardinals, Anthony keeps his head down.  Ignoring all the while the smell of Kris’s cologne – something the wind seems intent on carrying – or the way Kris will look at him long and hard whenever Anthony’s at third.

But Anthony never meets his eyes.

 

-z-

 

End.


End file.
